If freedom means
To not need
To ask for permission

Why does it cost
So much
And many a pretty penny

Life like re-enacting
Civil wars and holocausts
Conditioned for submission

The battles with ourselves
Already lost
All ready at a loss

So many without
Such pretty pennies
To show for

Only the cross,
Only the burdens
And the shameful guilt

Unworthy and unfit
Already at a loss
Born to silt and subdegation

I try to avoid confrontation
Nothing said in conversations
When all we do is cuss...

And still we are proud
To have the freedom of speak and say
How the prey will pray

(For you)

These times we consume
In a spherical cage
Of our own doom...